


i think you're so good, and i'm nothing like you

by gabriphales



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: ?? i dont know??, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, i just added the davchurch tag bc i was like.. i should prolly tag this, just. au where its after canon and he just fuckin came back as a normal human ok ty, poly merle/dav/john for the win, pretty much mostly john being fucking depressed, the others are briefly mentioned but like. its mostly merle john stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: john's having a difficult time adjusting to human life, and coping with the after-effects of everything he's done. merle tries to help.
Relationships: Davenport/Merle Highchurch, Merle Highchurch/The Hunger | John
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	i think you're so good, and i'm nothing like you

**Author's Note:**

> tw for disordered eating!! (the entire fic centers around john not wanting to eat and merle trying to force him to eat so!! warning for that!!) also i rushed it out in the span of like two hours so lmao all lowercase bc that's the vibe

he isn't eating.

it's five in the morning, the sun's barely bothered to rise, pink and gold lighting up the sky far too ceremoniously for such an everyday procedure. davenport's still in bed, the quilts tucked up to his chin. merle would have stayed with him, slept in until taako called him down for breakfast--probably calling him a grouchy old fuck all the while.

that's the kind of morning merle would have preferred to indulge in. lazy, calm, carefree. surrounded by his friends, his family, his  _ husband _ .

but instead, he's here. stuck in the dining room, thrumming his fingers against the wooden table, and watching. watching, as john doesn't eat. he swirls the spoon around in his cereal, pulls it out for a moment to observe, take in the way the milk dribbles down and back into his bowl. he isn't eating, though. and he'd promised merle he would eat. he'd promised, he--

he has to try, at least.

"y'know, typically food's more for eating than looking at, john." merle says, grinning ear to ear, and doing his damndest to look as teasing, as pleased with himself as is possible. he wants to get john's goat, irritate him to the point he's willing to do anything, just to prove merle wrong. it should be easy--merle knows he can get annoying at the best of times. and john's a bit of a short fuse, something merle can personally attest to.

still, when merle chuckles, takes a bite of his own food just to drive the point home, john doesn't respond. he drops his spoon, cups his face in his hands, but he doesn't look at merle. he's specifically trying not to. and merle can tell. merle can  _ tell. _

"betchya too scared to try it. the big, brawny, scary mister hunger, frightened of a little scoop of cereal." he snickers, hoping just a little push, a little more force behind his efforts, will drive john to finally giving in. his fingers aren't tapping on the table anymore. he doesn't know when he stopped. he isn't sure  _ why _ he stopped.

later on, he'll realize it's because his hands are too busy shaking. 

john's gaze flickers towards him, and his eyes--they're so bloodshot, so pink, he looks positively ill--are somehow both fuller and emptier than they'd been as the hunger. his lips curl into a frown. a thin, pointedly curved line. merle wants to point out that at least he's letting himself feel again, at least he's  _ human _ . but the timing isn't right, the atmosphere is too tense.

merle isn't sure he can breathe like this. his lungs are burning, his pulse thrumming in his throat.

"c'mon, johnny boy, don'tcha wanna call my bluff?" merle asks, and his voice trembles--he doesn't want it to tremble, it  _ shouldn't  _ be trembling. he has to be strong here, has to show how determined, stable,  _ happy  _ life has made him. he needs to be a positive example for john. a reason to keep going.

but he's nervous. he's nervous, and this time, there's no questions he can ask to make it better.

"merle." john mutters. his voice cracks. it's weak, strained and low. he cocks his head to the side, clasps his hands together tightly, and merle can feel the heaviness in his stare. the weight of his eyes as they peer over his knuckles, bore into his soul. it should be uncomfortable, but it isn't. merle, all things considered, is awfully familiar with him at this point.

"we aren't the same, merle. i'm not like you." 

merle hesitates. "you don't have to be. everyone's different, john."

and john doesn't speak. he's silent, chewing at his lower lip, and just looking at merle. he looks, and looks, and looks. he won't stop  _ looking _ . it's intense, merle's heart is beating faster, hard and hot in his chest, his hands, his stomach. he can feel it everywhere. the rush of adrenaline surging throughout his body.

"but nobody's like me. nobody's done the things i've done." john says. he crosses his legs underneath the table, merle can hear the brush of fabric, the squeak of the wooden chair. his throat tightens, clenches around air, but he pushes on nonetheless--john needs him.

john  _ needs _ this.

"well, i mean, when you were like that, you weren't really all yourself, y'know." merle offers. "can't beat yourself up over something like that. the past is the past. what matters now is that you can do better, and that starts here."

his hand lurches forwards, clutching john's spoon for him.

"with this spoonful of cereal."

and for the first time in the entire morning, john smiles. it doesn't quite reach his eyes, he isn't fully cheered up, but it's enough for merle. enough to calm the nerves he's been trying to stifle for the last ten minutes.

"merle, i…" john pauses. he pushes the spoon away. "when i was a part of the hunger, everything felt so-- _ empty. _ i was always empty. and it didn't hurt, not the same way you feel pain. but i--i was in pain. it was a constant, unyielding ache. and i couldn't--i couldn't control myself. i did things i would never do now. i hurt--i hurt so many people, merle. i'm unforgivable, i'm absolutely--"

he collapses forwards, slumping over the table. arms crossed over his head, utterly and completely limp.

"i don't understand why i got to live." he mumbles. it's so muffled, so quiet, merle can barely make out the words at first. he shakes his head, reaches out and smooths down john's ruffled hair, keeps him from tugging at it. john's fingers catch on his own, he doesn't let go of merle's hand. and merle doesn't fight back. he gives him what he can. at least it'll make him somewhat happy.

"john, listen, i don't know all the secrets of the universe. i haven't seen the things you've seen. but god fucking dammit, i believe in second chances. for one reason or another, you got one. and you've gotta embrace that, use it to do some good in this world. i always held out hope for you, john."

merle's breath hitches. he isn't sure if this is the right thing to say. 

"and i don't think i was wrong."

john stiffens, his whole body goes tight. his hand grips merle's tighter than any hand ever should, and his palms turn white. he's shaking all over now, hard enough to rattle the table as his other hand grabs the side of it, holding on for dear life. merle doesn't know how to fix this, he'd run out of plan b's five minutes ago. he's about to pull back, tug himself away from john, wake up davenport or call for magnus.

but then john stops. and he looks up at merle again. his eyes cloud over with tears and an emotion completely indescribable. merle wants to help him. he needs to help him, he has to has to has to  _ has to-- _

"i don't want to hurt you." john says. "i'm so scared of hurting you again. if i eat--what if i go wild again? what if i lose control? i don't want to hurt you merle--you don't know--"

his eyes squeeze shut, mouth twisting into a grim, tight-lipped expression. he inhales unsteadily, and gathers himself well enough to speak again.

"you don't know how much you mean to me."

and merle's mind goes blank. he doesn't have a response to that. he doesn't have a go-to motivational speech stored up in the back of his skull. still, he manages to cup john's face after a moment, thumb stroking over the gaunt jut of his cheekbone. and he laughs. he laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"john hunger, you are an idiot." he says, tilting his head up by his chin, and forcing their eyes to meet.

"i don't… understand." john murmurs. he's questioning, uncertain. but merle's here, merle's always been confusing. and he's worth the confusion. he's worth the side effects.

"if you think a couple times getting killed is enough to hold me down, then you've got another thing coming. i like you, wouldn't have let you in my house if i thought you were any sort of danger to me. so stop worrying about that stuff, alright? it's over now, water under the bridge." merle explains, the absolute warmth in his voice, his hands, his smile overwhelming john. he's always been so warm, even when john was too cold to remember what heat felt like. 

their hands come together again, fingers intertwine. it feels safe, feels right. feels like something john should do. something that'll set him on the right track.

"okay." he whispers, nodding his head. "okay."

and merle washes his empty bowl with pride later that day.

**Author's Note:**

> i am soft for johnchurch that is all. my tumblr is @alqhacentauri


End file.
